


For The Best

by ecoman12



Series: McNamawyer Family [1]
Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, mcnamawyer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 02:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecoman12/pseuds/ecoman12
Summary: Veronica goes out for a walk.





	For The Best

It was cold outside, which made sense because it was the middle of December. It was that frustrating kind of cold, where it was cold enough to snow, but it didn't, so you were stuck with a mundane clear cold that bit at your nose but had none of the joys of the white powder. On any other night, Veronica would be annoyed by this. Well, more like, on any other night like this she would be at home, curled up on the couch with her wife. Veronica savored that though for a moment, until she remembered she was mad at Heather McNamara and internally chastised herself. 

Tonight Veronica needed this mundane cold. She needed it to clear her head and chill her face, which was hot and red from anger. She was walking beside the road, hands stuffed into the pockets of her hastily thrown on jacket. Now and then a car would pass, the headlights blinding her and throwing her shadow across nearby buildings. Where did someone have to go to get in drink in this town? It was a town she didn't exactly know, named Saint something-or-other. She and Heather were there for Heather’s work. She had a case about a guy…somewhere…Veronica was too angry to remember. 

Suddenly, the smell of liquor filled her nose and she turned to see a bar. The door was open, spilling light across the sidewalk, along with music and chatter. Veronica could really use a drink. She walked into the bar and heat washed over her. The stale yet lulling smell of beer was strong now. Veronica sat at the bar and ordered some scotch, and in seconds, it was in her hand, dark and smooth as mahogany. Amazing. She raised the drink to her lips, then froze. Somebody had sat next to her. She turned to her left to see a familiar face.. 

“Well, hey Veronica.” Heather Duke looked as surprised as Veronica was that they had ran into each other. “How…have you been?” 

“Um--good. Yeah, I've been good, you?” 

“Fine, fine.” There was an awkward silence. Veronica fidgeted with her glass, not even sipping it. “Y’know, you can drink if you want,” Heather said, laughing a bit to try and lighten the mood. “You don't have to be nervous around me. As long as you don't try to drive home I won't arrest you.”

“Oh, no, no it's not that.” Veronica let go of her drink, folding her arms on the bar. “I just…I know I shouldn't.” 

Heather didn't ask any more questions concerning that. “How’s Heather?” 

“She's great,” Veronica replied, more sarcastically then she had meant to. 

“Oh, I know that look,” Heather Duke said mockingly. “Trouble in paradise?” 

Veronica sighed. Heather Duke might have been awful in highschool, but she had really turned things around after college. She was a cop now, and it suited her. Veronica thought about whether is was a good idea to tell Heather the news. They had already told close family, Veronica figured it was alright.

“Heather is…” Veronica took in a breath, attempting to calm her rapid fire heart beat. She would never get used to telling people. “Heather is pregnant.” 

Heather Duke’s face lit up and she put a hand on Veronica’s shoulder. “Hey! That's amazing!” She paused, her joyful expression slowly morphing into a confused one. “Wait--”

“Heather always wanted to have a kid, she told me almost right after we got married. And I--I wasn't sure, so I made her wait a couple years. Finally, she--she wore me down. We tried adoption, but no luck, surprise surprise, because apparently two women aren't a stable home for a child,” Veronica said bitterly, feeling like she might cry.

Heather Duke was listening, her eyes locked on Veronica’s face. She continued, sniffing. “So, I'm sad, but Heather…Heather is heartbroken. She didn't come out of our room for weeks except for work. I tried to talk to her but she didn't have anything to say. But, then, one day, Heather was back. She was happy again. And I was glad obviously, but I didn't know why she had suddenly went from depressed to gleaming in a day.” Veronica had to pause for a moment again. “I wanted a kid, I did, I was just scared, and I was sure, maybe with a little more time and Heather’s legal experience, we could have adopted but, Heather, she--she went to a sperm bank, without telling me. And she told me a month after she had done it, I just--just don't understand her sometimes. She thinks everything is just going to be okay in the end but sometimes…sometimes it's not going to.” 

Veronica and Heather Duke were silent again, mostly because Veronica had practically just dropped a huge pile of shit between them. Finally, Heather spoke. “And so you're here because…?” 

“We were fighting. I kept a facade for my parents and her’s when we told them but I couldn't keep it up any longer. I just needed some air.” 

Heather nodded. “Well, I'm really sorry, Veronica. That's a terrible thing for Heather to do.” Veronica nodded a bit but there was nothing behind it. 

“Thanks for listening, Heather.”

“No problem, are you gonna get crunk?” 

“Yeah.” 

It wasn't the smartest thing, washing your sorrows away in booze, but it was the only thing Veronica could think of. Usually, when she was sad, she would talk to her wife, but Heather had done a terrible thing, something Veronica wasn't sure she could forgive, at least not easily. Veronica voiced these thoughts in a loud, slurring voice to the bartender. “IT’S NOT LIKE I DON’T WANT A KID.” she shouted, almost like there was music playing that she was having to speak over, though there wasn't any. “I JUST WISH SHE HAD TOLD ME, THAT’S REASONABLE, RIGHT?” 

The bartender nodded, used to scenes like these. “You tell them, honey.” 

“Y’KNOW, I FEEL LIKE WE HAVE A SPECIAL CONNECTION. WOULD IT BE WEIRD IF WE HELD HANDS.” Veronica leaned forward, closer to the bartender, but she got held back when Heather Duke grabbed her collar. 

“Okay, tiger, time to head home,” she said. Veronica let herself fall into Heather’s arms and was cradled there. She started crying suddenly, gross, slobbery, drunk crying. 

“You've always been there for me, Heather, except when you were a huge mega bitch in high school. Remember my uncle at me and Heather’s wedding, that one who kept shouting ‘LESBIANS’ during our vows?” Veronica groped at her jacket collar as they walked outside. “You punched that guy in the face, I thought that was really cool.”

“Thanks, Veronica,” Heather said, choosing to ignore the ‘mega bitch’ comment. She set Veronica down beside her car, and, after making sure the drunk woman didn't keel over, she took out her phone and flipped it open. 

“I think this is my fault, I was hard on her,” Veronica mumbled, leaning against the car. “You know what I said? You know what I said when we got the letter that we couldn't adopt? I said that it was for the best. That's what I said. Those were the words that came out of my mouth. God, I'm such an awful wife.” 

“Don't say that, Veronica.” Heather opened the door of the car and let her fall in. “Hey, what's Heather’s number?”

“867-5309.” Veronica had gone from senseless sobbing to hysterical laughing in about three seconds. 

“Thanks, that helps.” Something suddenly started buzzing. Veronica pulled out her own phone and looked at the caller ID. 

“It's--” A well placed hiccup. “It's the, uh, wife, it’s the wife Heather.” She put the phone to her ear. “Hey, babe, what's up, I'm just out with the cop Heather, I'm totally sober.”

“Here give it to me, Veronica,” Heather said, and she did so. “Hey, Heather? This is Duke.”

Heather McNamara’s voice came over the phone. The connection was fuzzy, but her voice could be heard as stuffy and rough, like she’d been crying. “Duke? Heather Duke?”

“Yeah, that's me. I'm in town and we met at a bar. Veronica is pretty intoxicated at the moment.”

“Oh God, where are you?” Duke said the name of the bar. “Okay, I'll be right there.” 

“Well, I could just--” She hung up. “Right. Okay, Veronica, you can wait in the car until Heather gets here.” 

Veronica let out a long groan. “My wife is mad at me and I'm mad at my wife. Can't I just stay with you?” 

“No, you two have to make up.” Veronica groaned again, louder and more dramatic this time. “You're right, Heather shouldn't have done that. She must have been really desperate. What was it you said to her, about how you couldn't adopt?” Heather asked as she got into the backseat next to Veronica. 

“‘It's for the best,’” she practically spat, and held her head in her hands. “I just freaked, I didn't want to be a mother.” 

“Do you want to be one now?” Duke asked.

“I don't know, all I want it is Heather, we've been fighting for too long, I need her back. Look at me, I'm a mess!” Veronica was crying again now, but not the faux crying brought on by drunkenness, these were real big fat lonely tears streaming down her cheeks. She plopped her face down against Heather’s shoulder. 

“There, there.” Heather patted Veronica’s back comfortingly. “It's alright.” 

“I just want her back…” She repeated this several times, getting quieter every time until she started snoring loudly. Heather sighed, still patting Veronica’s back. Heather Duke hadn't thought about the past in a while, but seeing Veronica triggered memories. Heather had changed a lot since high school. She had stepped away from trying to be like Heather Chandler and found herself. It took several years of discipline, though, she joined the army, then the police, and she proved that she could be more than just a desk-ridden secretary. The discipline very much helped her find herself, and she had made up with Heather McNamara and Veronica, became close friends, attended their wedding, punched that guy in the face. She had come to care for them both very much, and, though she had learned to not stick her nose into people's business, this was a special case.

A car’s beams flooded the backseat and Heather Duke kicked open the door. After setting Veronica’s head down on the seat, she walked out and peered into the night. A car pulled up into the parking lot nearby and a figure walked out. It was too dark to see, but Heather could make out familiar curly hair, backlit by the headlights of the car. Heather Duke waved. 

The figure seemed to see, and once she got closer, Heather McNamara became clear in the darkness. Her blonde hair had grown less curly and more wavy as she got older, and if Heather hadn't already known she was pregnant, she wouldn't have been able to tell. It was probably because of the big jacket she had on. 

She approached Heather Duke and smiled tiredly. “Good to see you, Heather, what are you doing here?” 

“I had some work.” 

McNamara nodded. “Me too.” She took in a breath. “Is…is she in there?” Duke nodded, stepping back to reveal Veronica, still asleep and drooling. McNamara stiffened. “Can you help me carry her?”

The two Heather’s had Veronica propped up between them like she was a wounded soldier as they walked to the other car. Once Veronica was secure in the back seat, belt buckled, McNamara got into the driver’s seat. She didn't turn the ignition, though, she just sat there, hands tight on the wheel, staring ahead. Duke leaned down, bracing herself with the top of the window. “So, Veronica told me about you guys’…predicament.” 

McNamara’s hands tightened, and her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, glancing where Veronica was snoring. “I--I was an idiot. It's just, my whole life I've wanted a baby and when Veronica came out as opposed I didn't know what to do. It was wrong I know it was, but, but…” 

“There's no way to go back now,” Duke said, nodding solemnly. “If you don't mind me asking, how far along are you?” 

“Four months,” she replied, her voice shaky. “Four months of tip-toeing around each other like we were in a graveyard, all because of me.” 

“Four months, so you would know the gender?” 

McNamara nodded. “It's a boy. We went in today and got an ultrasound.” Her hand went to her face, where silent tears had begun to fall. She looked almost surprised that they were there. “Argued on the way home, she stormed out, and here we are.” 

Duke sighed, tapping her finger on the car's frame in thought. “Look, I don't want to speak for her, but Veronica told me she misses you, I'm sure she's willing to forgive.” 

“I hope so…” McNamara turned around to look at Veronica, whose head was tilted back, mouth gaping open. She smiled sadly and turned back to face forward. “It was good to see you, Heather,” she said to Duke. “Maybe we'll see eachother again soon?” 

Duke nodded. “For sure.” They hugged through the window; Duke could feel her shaking. Afterwards, McNamara drove away. 

Heather sighed, left alone in the parking lot, face pinched with worry. She hoped to God they would be all right. 

\--

Veronica woke up fuzzy. She felt like she was standing too close to a painting, the world was scattered and it didn't make sense. Where was she? What did she do last night? When she was younger she had rather enjoyed the thrill of that, but now all she could think of was the nasty hangover headache pounding away behind her temples. Slowly, she stepped back from the painting and let it come into focus. The sheets around her were white. Nearby, a fan spun lazily. Sunbeams shone through windows. She was in bed, she remembered the hotel, that was nice. She took a deep breath and got a nose full of a sweet smelling shampoo, so she sat up to get an even clearer view of the painting set out before her. 

Her wife, sleeping soundly in bed. Heather’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at Veronica, squinting in the morning light. Freckles like stars were sprinkled across her cheeks. Veronica remembered in high school, how Heather had been so insistent on covering those adorable freckles. She remembered the first time she had seen those freckles, it was at a sleepover, one of the first ones with all the Heathers. A glorious moment, when Heather washed off her makeup before bed, and there they were, freckles across her cheeks and nose. Why she ever covered them up was beyond Veronica, she was just glad Heather didn't do it now. 

Heather’s hands were tentative as she reached for Veronica’s arm and used it to pull herself up into a sitting position. Veronica gently brought her closer. “Veronica?” Heather asked, bewildered and surprised with the acceptance. 

“I'm sorry, I knew how much you wanted this and I was terrible to you.” 

“God, Veronica, no.” Heather pulled away to be at arm's length. “Don't apologize, it's my fault. I shouldn’t have made such a big decision you weren't comfortable with. If…if you still really don't think we should have a baby, I talked to the doctor and he said he might be able to arrange an…” The word rose, bitter in her throat. “An abortion.”

Veronica shook her head. “No, no, Heather. I know you've wanted this for a long time and I will not be the one to take it from you.” She took Heather’s hand and held it tightly. 

Heather smiled, it was small and tired, but hopeful. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” 

“I don't know, honestly,” Veronica said. She slid off the bed and stood. “Are you hungry? Because I am, I'm gonna go get breakfast.” She walked to the door, still babbling. “I was thinking about names, y’know. What about Kurt or Ram?” Heather shot her a look, and Veronica laughed. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding.”


End file.
